Angels of Light - Beyond the Veil

by Mark Vance

  Donning his hiking gear, Steve skirts around the lodge’s laundry facility and arrives at the base of the steep hiking trail leading to the crash site. The morning fog and pervasive dampness in the Moors area is greatly accentuating the gloomy nature of the task ahead. He is traveling light for this short daytime hike, with just simple rain gear, a canteen full of water, and Ray’s Bible. He instinctively checks his watch before beginning the estimated forty-five minute climb to the Black Hameldon Bomber crash site. Almost immediately, he too begins to feel like he is being watched, but he tries to rationalize the eerie sensation. The poor visibility in the Moors area this morning is obviously not conducive to observing anything. He is meeting Uncle Ray, someone he has been in contact with almost all his life. And lastly … he is no tourist or unwanted trespasser. He is working on behalf of the James Tyree Bomber Crew and he has an expressed invitation to the crash site. Uncle Ray and other members of the Tyree Bomber Crew are expecting him.

  “What could go wrong?” he jokes uneasily.

  At the first bend in the trail, he spots debris scattered over a wide area a few yards off to his right, and he leaves the trail to investigate. He quickly discovers that the debris is in fact used trauma kit packaging, and he concludes that this must be the location where rescuers found a seriously injured Ian McShane. He gathers some of the trauma kit packaging material and stows it in his small travel bag, making a mental note to ask Uncle Ray about the unfortunate incident, and Ian McShane’s assertion of a violent, demonic assault.

  Rejoining the hiking trail, he continues the steep ascent to the crash site. The remote nature and unnatural, eerie silence of the Moors area grow more apparent with each step he takes. There is absolutely no sign of life anywhere, not even insects. He begins to feel as though he is cocooned within a web of increasingly negative energy, a sensation that grows in intensity with every step. McShane’s heated warning about the crash site being a portal to hell, paired with emotionally charged details regarding the attack that Kay experienced at home, resonate jointly in his mind. The ever present sensation that he could be walking headlong into a well planned demonic ambush dominates all his thought processes.

  “Maybe I should have at least brought a camera along for the reward money.” he joked.

  The low visibility and dampness begin to improve dramatically as his elevation increases, and within minutes he is well above the thick layer of early morning ground fog. At what he perceives to be the halfway point on the trail, he pauses for a drink of water, and surveys the scene further up the trail. In the distance, high on an adjacent ridge, he spots a black ram frozen in position, eyeing him curiously. He surmises that the creature is well positioned to oversee the remaining portion of the hiking trail, as well as the crash site of the Black Hameldon Bomber just beyond the ridge ahead. The animal’s fixed gaze has him feeling even more uneasy and vulnerable. He knows the domain he is entering is alien, surreal, and extremely hostile to intruders. With his survival instincts kicking in forcefully, he deliberately slows his pace to give all his senses a chance to elevate to their maximum. In response, he feels a steady adrenaline rush surging through his body. Against that adrenaline rush, he struggles to recall his Biblical studies, concerned that the overarching presence of a black ram could be a latent indicator of demonic activity.

  Minutes later, as he approaches the crest dividing the trail from the crash site just beyond, he senses, but cannot see, an energy barrier across the trail abruptly divide, encouraging his entry as a disembodied voice exclaims … “welcome!” He does not respond to the gesture, but slows his pace and again surveys the trail ahead. He notices that it narrows considerably going forward, ideal landscape for an ambush attempt. Proceeding slowly and deliberately along the narrowing trail, he eventually reaches the crest overlooking the bomber’s crash site. Surveying the scene directly below him, he is overwhelmed by the sight of such massive devastation. The Black Hameldon Bomber was obviously in a steep, vertical plunge on impact. It appears to have been completely out of control when the crash occurred. Scanning the highest ridge overlooking the crash site, he confirms the black ram’s steady, uninterrupted gaze. The animal appears to be perplexed that anyone would approach its isolated domain. Its demeanor conveys an awareness that nobody is welcome here under normal circumstances and therefore all activity requires its steadfast attention.

  As his focus returns to the wreckage of the ill fated bomber, Steve detects movement in the debris field directly below him. From his elevated vantage point, he sees a male figure in World War II military flying attire, standing in the middle of the debris field, apparently motioning toward him. Slowly descending the backside of the ridge in response, he is filled with trepidation as he approaches the figure cautiously. He wonders why anyone would be dressed like that and exploring this God forsaken place, especially today. Before he can utter a word, the entity greets him by name and openly declares, “it’s good to see you again, Captain Lacey!”

  Bewildered and speechless, Steve feels the fight or flight instinct kicking in even harder as the entity continues, “I have that privileged information you are looking for.”

  Before Steve can respond, the entity casually introduces himself.

  “I’m Lieutenant James Tyree, command pilot of the Black Hameldon Bomber.”

  Steve is momentarily overwhelmed by the declaration and supernatural encounter, but he endeavors to remain as composed as possible. He stares for a moment at the man’s face and recognizes him immediately as James Tyree from the crew photograph in his office. He instinctively tightens his grip on Ray’s Bible for spiritual grounding, and manages to return a weak smile and nod as Lieutenant Tyree continues.

  “My entire crew wanted to be here to share this special occasion with you.”

  In the blink of an eye, Steve is surrounded by the entire Tyree Bomber Crew and its six ill fated passengers. The faces of the crew are eerily familiar, and just like that night in the rain at Bradley International Airport, none of them has aged a day since the crew photograph was taken in 1944. Fifteen ghostly entities stare at him attentively, watching him in silence and gauging his reaction. Uncle Ray then interjects, extending his customary greeting, and like a good host, begins making formal introductions. One by one, Steve is introduced to the entire Tyree Bomber Crew and six passengers from that fateful day decades ago.

  Following the lengthy introductions, the Tyree Bomber Crew and passengers immediately dispense with formalities and begin forming a tight circle around him. Without warning, they abruptly begin communicating their thoughts and experiences to him telepathically. The privileged portions of the accident report that he was told to expect to receive are abruptly imparted to him via a supernatural mental transference, as intimate knowledge and hidden details regarding the crash, that only they would know, begin to flow unrestricted. The transference process is designed to enable him to experience all the events surrounding the crash from each entity’s perspective, including their mental and physical senses. Several minutes elapse, as the other-worldly, transference process unfolds to its horrific conclusion at 3:24 PM on June 13, 1945, the exact time of the bomber’s crash.

  Once the conclusion and aftermath are realized, Steve is suddenly transformed into a firsthand eyewitness to every detail, physical sensation, and nuance relevant to the bomber’s final hours. The majority of the details are unsettling, a confirmation of what he learned from the psychic at Camp Ellis, and he is lost for words as he contemplates the travesty, betrayal, and potentially negative cultural impact to the revelation he just experienced. Undoubtedly, the details laid bare before him are powerful enough to rock the foundation of the U.S. Government if they were ever to become public knowledge.

  He is dumbfounded and aghast, reeling from the horrific details of the graphic telepathic event, and the mental and physical aftermath of experiencing actual physical death. Speechless and overwhelmed, he stares at the fifteen entities in shock and dismay, trying to absorb the mysterious
influx of information and collect himself emotionally. Lieutenant Tyree seizes upon his state of physical and mental vulnerability by injecting, “there’s just one small change that needs to be addressed while we’re all here together.” he said flatly, as Steve stared at him in submissive silence.

  “Instead of merely telling our families, we want this story told to the entire world, including how you received this privileged information and were able to solve the mystery of the crash. We want people to know and understand that there is real power available to them in the earthly domain, available to anyone if they will just call on it. All we ask for in return, is their service and absolute loyalty.” Lieutenant Tyree said insistently, offering Steve a demanding, steadfast gaze.

  Initially confused by the statement and still reeling from the transference process, Steve begins to slowly collect his thoughts. He eventually manages to ask Lieutenant Tyree for clarification and more specificity to his previous odd statement.

  “To whom are you asking everyone to serve and for their absolute loyalty to be directed?” he asked carefully.

  Unabashedly and without reservation, Lieutenant Tyree declares, “all service and all loyalty is to be reserved for and directed toward me and my crew.”

  Recoiling at the demonic declaration, Steve’s spiritual discernment skills suddenly go into overdrive and he summons all his courage to ask, “what if people are not willing to offer you and the rest of the Black Hameldon Bomber Crew their service and absolute loyalty?”

  Suddenly, a vile, overriding, disembodied voice, from the epitome of evil, Satan himself declares, “then they won’t have any real power in my domain!”

  Steve flinches in response to the precipitous, disembodied revelation of absolute satanic oversight, and instinctively thrusts Ray’s Bible toward the apparition of his Uncle Ray.

  “I challenge you, apparition of my Uncle Ray Wilkins, to hold your Bible again!” he shouted, as forcefully as he could, repeatedly thrusting the small Bible toward the apparition of Ray Wilkins.

  The apparition of Ray Wilkins recoils and rejects any physical contact with the little book that had supernaturally survived dozens of combat missions and the crash of the Black Hameldon Bomber. Realizing there is no chance of the demonic entity’s compliance, Steve slowly withdraws the small Bible and with it his direct challenge to the apparition. Instead, he immediately begins declaring aloud to Heaven his love and admiration for the real Tyree Bomber Crew and labels the fifteen entities encircling him as satanic impostors before God. Kneeling in the debris field, while surrounded by an unholy whirlwind of darkness, he begins praying Holy Scriptures from Ray’s Bible directly to his Father in Heaven. He implores the Lord to purify this evil, foreboding place and oversee his physical safety against the satanic forces that are encircling him. Drawing strength from the Word of the Lord, he reads aloud passage after passage unabated for the next several minutes.

  When he finally concludes and pauses to scan the area around him, he realizes that he is now alone in the debris field of the Black Hameldon Bomber. There is no sign of the fifteen demonic entities or anything else for miles. Without hesitation, he turns to see if the menacing black ram is still gazing at him from the adjacent ridge, and he discovers that it too has abruptly vanished.

  He thinks of Ian McShane and how right he was about this horrendous place being a portal to hell, but how wrong he had been about there being no truth here. In response to sudden soulful inspiration, he fosters a plan to ensure that truth and light always prevail in this soon to be sacred place, from this day forward. As part of that plan, he spends the next several minutes climbing to the vantage point vacated by the demonic black ram. Upon reaching the crest, he inserts Ray’s Bible into a portion of the trauma kit packing material he was carrying, and places the items together at the optimum vantage point overlooking the crash site. He then repeats his prayer on behalf of the real Tyree Bomber Crew, his Uncle Ray, and for all the people that shall visit this sacred place in the future. He thanks his Heavenly Father for rescuing him from the satanic forces that encircled him and he implores his Father to one day make it possible for him to reunite with the spirits of the real Tyree Bomber Crew in Heaven.

  When the task of strategically placing Ray’s Bible and spiritually cleansing the area with prayer concludes, Steve begins a slow, prayerful trek back down the narrow hiking trail. As he does, he watches thick morning clouds give way to bright afternoon sunshine, and the gloomy, foreboding hiking trail transform into a well lit and easy to traverse pathway. The entire spiritual atmosphere of the crash site and surrounding area seems to have changed dramatically in a matter of minutes, with the ever present negative energy that was such a factor on the ascent, no longer apparent. He is also cognizant of the fact that the deafening, eerie silence of the Moors area has been replaced by a concert of nature in all directions.

  At the mid-point of his descent, he stops to watch birds frolicking high overhead, and a white ram, ewe, and several young lambs grazing peacefully alongside the hiking trail. The arrogant, satanic utterance of the prince of darkness resonates once again in his mind as he resumes descending the trail.

  “Then they won’t have any real power in my domain! Then they won’t have any real power in my domain!” he mimics, taunting the demonic forces that had duped him so successfully for most of his life.

  Sensing a clear cut spiritual victory, his thoughts begin to shift to the Black Hameldon Bomber itself and the now resolved mystery. The hidden facts about the crash that he went to such extreme lengths to uncover, now seem almost inconsequential. The only revelation that he longs to share with the world is the unmistakable source of truth and light, the power of God’s Word, not retribution for a man made tragedy. The power of God’s Word was something his great-grandmother understood decades ago when she first handed him Ray’s Bible. Now, he too fully understands that power and is committed to sharing his insight with anyone that will listen.

  Twenty-five minutes later, the nagging question of whether a spiritual victory can be realized so quickly and decisively begins to gnaw at him. When he finally reaches the bottom of the hiking trail, he hesitantly approaches the laundry facility of the Warton Lodge and feels the same eerie sensation rising once more within him. At that moment, he concludes that total spiritual victory is unlikely to be realized in a single afternoon. The Bible is adamant that spiritual warfare is an ongoing battle as long as we inhabit an earthly, physical body. To that end, he begins to seriously ponder the potential time line and location of what he believes will be an inevitable demonic counter-attack.

  Chapter Six

  Reconstituted

  “We use God’s mighty weapons, not mere worldly weapons, to knock down the Devil’s strongholds.” 2nd Corinthians 10:4

  On the long flight home, Steve feels more at ease in the coach section of the jetliner than he has anywhere else in days. Sleep is still elusive, but he no longer battles the incessant fight or flight instinct and its automatic sensory response. His victory over the forces of darkness at Black Hameldon, England was certainly decisive, but it left him emotionally drained, with his usual cockiness and bravado slow to rebound. At this juncture, he wonders if the biggest dilemma facing him in the short term is the privileged information that he retains in his subconscious memory regarding the Black Hameldon Bomber crash. The lifetime of spiritual deception and flagrant manipulation that he endured to solve the decades old mystery certainly did not undermine the accuracy of what he learned during the mental transference process. He knows in his heart that the Black Hameldon Bomber mystery is solved. The demonic hoard impersonated the Black Hameldon Bomber Crew in conjunction with their self serving, satanic master-plan, but beyond question, the fallen angels witnessed the tortuous events that led to the bomber’s crash in 1945. He has no doubt that the information they shared with him at the crash site a few days ago was spot on.

  Their deception and scheming were directed toward recruiting massive numbers of wayward foll
owers. To them, solving the mystery was just a side show, a lure, a means to an end, to showcase the depth of their power in the earthly realm.

  As the trans-Atlantic flight settles into the cruise portion, he begins to ponder the lifelong web of lies that eventually led him to this spiritual crossroad. Of all the outlets and entities he interacted with throughout this lengthy quest, only the families of the deceased crewmen, and the Illinois Society of Spiritualists and Naturalists at Camp Ellis provided any substantive, meaningful insight and reinforcement. Every other outlet, entity, or institution he encountered throughout this prolonged ordeal, either stonewalled, threatened, deceived, or was simply too incompetent to be worthwhile. After the transference process, he fully understands why authorities in the United States Government reacted to his initial inquiry the way they did. A murder investigation is an uncomfortable prospect at best, but even more so when you are the one ultimately responsible for the crime and the ongoing cover-up.